


Miss Mustang

by Trash_Baby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Car Appreciation, Eventual Smut, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader is essentially Dean, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Some Plot, hunter reader, i guess, in some places, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 02:19:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12122400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash_Baby/pseuds/Trash_Baby
Summary: 'You like to think that you're a simple kind of girl - the kind that's easily pleased, doesn't take much to impress. And for the most part, you guess you are - take right now, for example; the windows are rolled down, the breeze is in your hair, and AC/DC blaring as you cruise down the empty highway in your beloved cherry red Mustang Boss 429. You're pretty damn happy, nothing is bothering you in particular, except for-'You're a hunter, living the life (sometimes you'd rather not) when you run into a pair of brothers who go by the last name Winchester.(Title subject to change; suggestions welcome - I also take requests!)





	1. Chapter 1

You like to think that you're a simple kind of girl - the kind that's easily pleased, doesn't take much to impress. And for the most part, you guess you are - take right now, for example; the windows are rolled down, the breeze is in your hair, and AC/DC is blaring as you cruise down the empty highway in your beloved cherry red Mustang Boss 429. You're pretty damn happy, and nothing is bothering you in particular, except for-

"Eli!" You snap for what seems to be the hundredth time this past hour. "Get your damn feet off the dash!" 

The teenager grumbles, dragging his sneaker-clad feet from where they currently resided on your dashboard to slam them against the car floor. Snatching your eyes from the empty road, you fix him with a fierce reprimanding glare before turning back, muttering under your breath about how much of a brat he was sometimes. 

"I'm not a kid, damn it!"

Snorting, you dare to glance at him out of the corner of your eyes. "Uh, you're sixteen, dude, so yeah, you are a kid. And no swearing."

"Seriously?!" He shouts, throwing his hands up with a scoff. "'Damn' is hardly a swear word! You've said much worse than that." 

"Damn right I've said worse." You mumble, fighting the urge to roll your eyes, though you ultimately fail when he continues complaining. 

"And sixteen isn't the age of a kid - I'm practically an adult now." 

"Oh yeah? You're an adult now?" You parrot, and you reach out to mute the stereo. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens as you prepare for this little dispute to transpire into a full-blown argument. "You wanna go and do adult stuff now, like get a job and pay taxes? You wanna go to bars and get drunk? Pick up chicks?"

"What, like you do?" Eli fires back, and your mouth shuts with an audible click of your teeth. His comment was enough to deflect all of your snarky suggestions, because it was true - whilst a paid job and taxes was a sarcastic dig at the arguably unethical nature of your current profession, getting dirt-face drunk and hooking up with randoms was was most definitely a jab at yourself. He sighs quietly as the fight momentarily leaves him, raking his shock of blonde hair away from his face before shifting to face you, though you don't dare to peel your eyes away from the road. "Y/N, I just wanna help you. It's not fair that you put yourself in danger all the time, whilst I sit back and do nothing."

"That's not true and you know it," You murmur quietly, fingers flexing on the wheel. "Who knows where I'd be without you to help me out with the myths and lore for this crap."

The creak of leather lets you know that he'd resorted to slumping in his seat, as he often did when he was frustrated. "I wanna do more - I want to be out there when you're killing these bastards! I want to have your back!"

"No." Eli opens his mouth to argue, but you shake your head sharply, cutting him off to continue. "It's dangerous enough when I leave you alone. If I have you out there with me when I'm actually hunting..." You pause, shaking your head again, softer this time as your mind dares to wander. "You don't know what it's like, Eli. I'd be worrying about you too much to think straight."

"But I can look out for myself, I can-"

"I know you can. I know that you have the theory and the knowledge, but I can't let you put it into practice yet, you're too young."

It's silent for a few beats, save for the hum of the engine, and you think he's finally dropped the issue when he takes a deep breath and starts again. "You started when you were younger than me, you were thirteen."

"That was me." You snap, gritting your teeth. "I did it because I had to. I didn't have a choice. You do."

"It's hardly a choice when you've already made it for me." He mutters, and you pull over sharply, slamming the brakes with so much force that you both jerk against your seat belts. Eli breathes heavily, gripping onto the door so tightly that his usually tanned hands have gone white. You barely breathe though. 

"I'm your legal guardian, Eli. It's my  _right_ to make decisions in your best interest, and believe me when I say that hunting is  _not_ in your best interests. This is a dangerous business, and I know that you've seen a lot of shit already, and the majority of that is because of me, but all of that will seem like rainbows and butterflies compared to what I do. I know that I've been a shitty role model to you, and you deserve a whole lot more than running around the country after things that go bump in the night, but this is what I do, and I'm trying my best to balance that with looking after you." You take a deep breath, blinking furiously at the tears that had seemingly appeared out of no where to glass your eyes up. Old leather squeals as you turn to face him, and his eyes are twitching between your face and the open window over your shoulder, struggling to focus anywhere for too long. Neither of you were particularly open with your emotions, and you both had a short fuse around each other. A family trait. "Your mom, she wouldn't have wanted this for you..."

"Don't."

Eli turns and faces straight ahead, face closing up with an unreadable expression to stare out of the windscreen into the distance, and you sigh softly before doing the same. After a moment, you start up the car again, edging back onto the road and resuming the speed. The silence becomes stifling all too soon, and you turn the music back on, though you're too tense to bob your head or tap the steering wheel like you usually did. The tension between the two of you stretches out like the empty road before you, but soon enough, the sign for the upcoming town comes into view, and you slow down slightly.

"So..." You begin, resting one arm halfway out of the door, the wind rustling the sleeve of your oversized plaid. "What've we got?"

"Good old ghost, from the looks of it." He mutters, twisting round to reach for the papers on the backseats. "Comes along and kills thirteen people every thirteen years."

"Ooh, spooky. How ironic."

He snorts, shuffling through the small pile as he skims the information the two of you had started compiling. "Yup, it's on victim number six already."

"Well, let's hope we stop it before lucky number seven, eh?" Your joke is met with an unimpressed raise of his eyebrows, and you grumble to yourself, though you pause when the first hints of a town come into view. Slowing down to a legal speed, your eyes skim the buildings curiously, trying to get a gauge on the place. "Hey, did you check out where the motels are in this place?"

"Yup, there's a whole one. Should be just up ahead, I think."

"So much for choice..." Pouting, you note that Eli is right - not even three hundred yards ahead is the sign for a motel, the lights flickering haphazardly even though it's the middle of the day. "Wow, this place looks _great_."

He hums noncommittally, tossing the papers onto the backseats over his shoulder, and you scowl when you glance back to find them scattered all over the seats and the floor. With a huff, you choose not to comment, instead pulling into the practically empty gravelly excuse of a parking lot, save for a battered old Wagoneer and- "Oh, sweet baby Jesus, she is  _beautiful_..."

You pull up next to the thing of beauty in a daze, eyes glued to the sleek black body of the Chevrolet Impala that currently had all of your attention and then some. "You're drooling."

Blinking, you actually reach up to wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand before realizing that Eli was simply being a little shit. "Shut up, you little punk." 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He shifts in his seat, yanking his belt off before throwing the door open, eager to stretch his legs. "C'mon, let's go get a room and then some food, I'm  _starving_."

"Careful!" You chide when he slams the door shut, before rushing to follow after him, though you admit to throwing a wistful stare over your shoulder at the inky black muscle car beside yours.

It's no surprise that you book a room for a few nights with no trouble, what with how empty the lot was, and within minutes, the two of you are walking out of the reception and back to the car to grab your bags.

"So, what do you want to eat, kid?" Eli shrugs, swinging his own bag up over his shoulder like you, and you roll your eyes. "Well in that case," You begin, hauling your bag off of your shoulder and dropping it at his feet with a grin, "You can go take this lot into the room and have a think about it whilst I pick up the research that you oh-so-carelessly chucked all over the backseats."

He huffs dramatically, but grabs your bag and throws it over his other shoulder before reaching out for the room key. Dropping it into his awaiting hand, you slam the trunk shut, then make your way round to the back door, the one closest to the Impala you'd been ogling not that long ago. Torn between admiring the vehicle and picking up the papers that littered your own, you decide on gathering your research and then rewarding yourself with a staring session of the Chevy muscle. 

It's easy enough to sweep the papers up from the seats, but several of them had fallen to the floor and under the front seats, leaving you with no other option but to bend over to reach them. One of them is particularly hard to reach, tucked almost all the way under the seat on the other side of the car, and whilst the logical part of you suggests that it would be easier to just go around and open the other door, the stubborn part of you insists that you can get it from where you are right now. And so that's how you found yourself bent over the backseats of your car, grunting and huffing as you strain to reach it.

An appreciative whistle, followed by a call of 'Now  _that_ isn't a bad view' makes you shriek, and you fall to the floor of your car with an ' _oomph!_ ', and then a groan of pain. Hearing hurried footsteps on gravel, you scramble to twist around, launching out of your car and finding your feet, intent on confronting whoever it was that had made you jump you almost gave yourself a concussion with your own car, only for your brain to short-circuit at the fucking  _Adonis_ in front of you. 

"Whoa, are you okay?" He asks, brows dipping over concerned green eyes as he reaches out, only for his hands to hover in mid-air as if he thought better of touching a stranger.

"Uh, yeah, fine," You mutter, cheeks as red as your car as your eyes dart everywhere but his face. He was too pretty - surely it was illegal? Your flitting eyes land on something that you can just barely see over his shoulder, and your eyebrows shoot up when you realize it's the open trunk of the Impala. "Is she yours?"

"Huh?"

He looks completely and utterly dumbfounded, and so you nod over at the car. His face melts into one of smug pride as he nods, "She is, my baby, Chevy Implala-"

"'-67?" 

Stunned green eyes blink before he's nodding enthusiastically. "And this is yours? Mustang Boss 429, 196-"

"'70, actually. _My_ baby," You correct, and something comes over you that makes you wink, before you reach behind you to affectionately pat the hood. The papers in your hand rustle, and you hastily toss them back in the car before closing the door, out of sight from the handsome man with the gorgeous car. "So, not a bad view, huh?"

The man grins, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "Well, I was admiring your baby, and then I came around and saw you back there..."

He trails off, and you smirk up at him, before sticking your hand out in front of you. "The name's Y/N."

"Dean," He fires back, his hand almost swallowing your own, and the calluses of his palm brush your own toughened skin, worn from the continuous handling of weapons. "So, Y/N, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

Snorting, you open your mouth to respond, but a motel door opens. "Y/N, what's taking you so long?!" You turn your head so fast you think you might give yourself whiplash, and you almost shrink under the accusing glare that Eli throws your way before you remember that you're the adult. Straightening up, you fix him with a glare of your own, though it's easily rivaled by the fiery suspicion in Eli's eyes as he studies the man in front of you. 

"Shut it, kid," Glancing at Dean from the corner of your eye, you find him staring at Eli in confusion, and you scramble to get out of the situation that could arise. "C'mon, let's go get food."

He slams the door to the motel, throwing the key at you without taking his eye off of Dean, and you snatch the keys mid-air before taking a step back from Dean, only just realizing that your hand was still in his. Slipping past him, you all but toss yourself into the drivers seat, starting the engine before Eli was even in, and AC/DC's Thunderstruck starts blaring mid-chorus. You don't even bother to yell at him for slamming the door, instead peeling out of the parking lot before Eli's belt was even on, leaving pretty boy Dean behind in a cloud of dust and confusion whilst you sat in your own cloud of embarrassment.

_What the hell made you react to him like that?_


	2. Chapter 2

It had been easy enough to find a greasy diner not far up the road from the motel, and after sliding into the booth and ordering a milkshake and the specialty burger from the peppy waitress, you find yourself with nothing to do except avoid Eli's gaze as you wait for your meal to arrive. 

"Who was that?" He asks for the fifth time, and just as you had done so before, you shrug.

"I told you, it was just the guy who owned that Impala," You know you sound like a little kid whining, but Eli just wasn't having it. "Would you just drop it already?"

"No." 

"And why the hell not?"

"Because he was looking at you funny."

You can't help but snort, which then spills out into laughter when you catch sight of the sour look he was giving you. "Oh, chill out, he was _not_ looking at me funny. He was probably just surprised that I know a bit about cars."

"Sure..." Eli mumbles, not believing your explanation for a second. "Anyway. About this case..."

"What about it?" You ask, slurping from the trio of straws that you had shoved into your milkshake. 

"Well, it's just a ghost right?"

"Yeah, pretty sure it's just the one," You manage to get out, straws pressed to your cheek as you continue to drink. "Why?"

He shrugs, glancing out of the window as he avoided your narrowed eyes. "I mean, ghosts are easy to get rid of, right?"

"No," You begin, knowing exactly what he was implying. "I'm not taking you out on this one."

"What? Why not?" He demands, slapping his hands down on either side of his glass of coke. "It's an easy case - you always say so yourself."

"I don't care, Eli, we've already talked about this today. Drop it already." Eli glares at you from over the top of his glass as he hunches over, arms crossed over his chest like a petulant child. You're used to it though, and you simply roll your eyes at him before slouching over to mimic his posture. "You look like a three year old when you do this, you know."

"Shut up." He mutters, directing his glare to the window.

The silence stretches out between the pair of you, and your milkshake is almost finished by the time the waitress comes back out with your burger and Eli's salad. "Thanks!" You chirp, before turning to poke his bowl of salad with a snort. "I can't believe you ordered a salad."

He ignores you though, picking up his fork to stab several of the leaves to shove in his mouth, and your brows raise before you turn to devouring your own meal. He pushes his empty bowl away from him just as you're eating the last few fries - not once had he looked away from the window, stabbing at his salad blindly as he pointedly avoided your eyes, and despite literal  _years_ of having to deal with Eli's tantrums - an amount of time that you would have thought would grant you immunity to hissy fits - your resolve still crumbles. "Look, I know you want to help and everything, but dealing with a spirit is still dangerous."

"You think I don't know that? I've seen you come back from a ghost hunt enough times to know that it's dangerous."

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you study him for a moment before sighing. "Okay."

"What?" Eli says, jerking around to fully face you, face hopeful before he schools his expression back to one of feigned neutrality. "'Okay' what?"

"Okay," You repeat with a sigh, elbows resting on the edge of the table to hold your face in your palms, pretending to be defeated. "You can come with."

* * *

 

"Dude, you need to calm down." 

Since finally agreeing to let Eli help you out with the case, he hadn't stopped babbling away about the case, listing off reams of information about the details of the deaths and the types of victims, about how he knew how to get rid of the spirits, about theories of his own. "I am calm, Y/N. I'm totally calm. This is so cool, I won't let you down, this is gonna be a piece of cake."

"Yeah, yeah," You roll your eyes, leaning your head back against the headrest as you reach up to rub at your temple. You'd left the diner in search of the local library, and after a short scan of the systems, you found the information on the culprit - a young woman, a self-proclaimed witch with an infatuation with stereotypes, had died mysteriously and violently decades ago, the number '13' engraved on her forehead, much like the current victims. Then, the pair of you had returned to the motel to find the Impala gone. A small part of you had been relieved, but a bigger part was almost sad at not being able to admire the car for longer (perhaps you were also a bit upset that you wouldn't be able to admire it's owner anymore either, but you wouldn't admit to that). 

"Don't you think it would be a good idea for us to scope out her grave now?" He asks, and you glance out of the window as twilight begins to darken. "Do we have to wait until it's dark?"

"It'll be easier if it's darker, we'll be harder to see and less likely to get caught." 

"But don't people expect grave robbers to come out at night? What if they have someone on night-watch or something?" 

"Kid, relax," You mutter, smirking at his skittish thoughts. "I sincerely doubt they have a guard patrolling the graves for robbers."

"Okay, but-"

Cutting him off with a sigh, you turn to face him, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Eli, relax. If you want, we'll go out there and find the grave, and then we'll come back when it's dark and dig her up, yeah?"

He nods at your suggestion, slipping out of your grip and out of the door, and you have no choice but to follow after him, slipping your keys into the deep pocket of your canvas jacket as you hurry over the uneven grass to reach his side. "Older graves are over there." He states as he points ahead, but he glances at you questioningly, and so you nod in confirmation. 

After ten minutes of scanning half-eroded tombstones, you find a small, nondescript stone with the name 'Emily Redding' scrawled across it. "Well, that's kind of disappointing. For all the trouble she's been causing, I'd have expected some great big gothic mausoleum, to be honest."

"Same." Eli says, looking slightly disappointed as he studied the tombstone, and you punch him lightly on the arm. 

"C'mon then, we'll come back in a couple of ours to sort her out, yeah?" He nods, and you turn to make your way back to the Mustang, intent on going over the two bags on the backseats that you'd packed earlier. A shovel is in the trunk, away from the leather interior, and you ponder whether or not you should find another one to make the dig quicker before deciding against it - it would be safer to have one person dig whilst the other kept an eye out for both people and the violent spirit of Emily, knowing that she'd turn up sooner or later to protect her body. 

Time drags by, and you make idle conversation to fill in the silence, though this is soon filled by one of Eli's playlists on his iPod - an addition to your car you'd begrudgingly agreed to in favor of stopping his constant complaints of your 'old-people music'. Any remaining light fades away to almost complete pitch black, aside from the smattering of stars and the faint glow of the waxing crescent moon, partially hidden behind the hazy clouds that had formed. 

Finally, when Eli squirms in his seat for the third time in the past five minutes, you reach into the back and grab a bag to drop into his lap, before grabbing your own. Pulling out a torch, you slip out of the car and throw the bag over your shoulder. You go around the back to get the shovel, and a door slams, followed by the bright beam of Eli's torch glaring into your eyes. Squinting, you hold up your free hand to shield your eyes and glare at him. "Dude, what the fuck? You're blinding me!"

"Sorry," He mutters, shifting the beam to over your shoulder, down the street you'd parked on, before freezing. "Hey, Y/N, isn't that the car from the motel lot?"

Spinning on your heels, your eyes fix on the car that Eli's torch was trained on, and you blink in shock when it lights up the inside to reveal two men - Dean, and another guy. Both of them are squinting like you had a moment ago, and you hiss at Eli to lower the torch before making a decision. Dropping the shovel back into the trunk, you slam it shut before storming over to the Impala, trying to conceal your whirlwind of emotions behind feigned confidence. Your hand dips past your jacket to brush against the .45 tucked away in your shoulder holster, and you take a deep breath, slowing when you reach the rolled down driver's window.

"Dean-o," You begin, fighting the urge to face-palm. "What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

The other man glances between you and Dean with raised brows, and Dean clears his throat before replying. "Uh, nothin', just, you know... stuff."

"Uh huh..." Your eyes narrow a fraction, and the familiar scent of gunpowder wafts from the vehicle as Dean shifts. You hadn't noticed it before, but now the smell was tangible, and alarm bells were starting to go off in your mind. Something was all too familiar here, something dangerous, and the urge to drop everything and get away to keep Eli safe had you straightening up from where you had been leaning forward to get a better view of the man with sour-apple green eyes. "Stuff."

Looking back to your car, you find Eli leaning against the trunk, one foot up against it, however you can't find it in you to yell at him for it like you usually would. Instead, you swallow quietly and take a step back, shaking your head as softly as you can to warn him against coming closer. His leg drops and he stands straight, his hand leaving the warmth of his pocket to slide the Bersa Thunder .380 you'd given him from his waistband, though he keeps it hidden behind his back. 

"Anyway, we better go, stuff to do..." You slowly back away, before speeding back to Eli, continuously throwing glances over your shoulder at the two suspicious men. "Let's go."

"Wait, what?" Eli exclaims, blinking in confusion as he tails you. "What do you mean, 'let's go'? What about the case?"

"We can do it tomorrow, but right now, we need to get out of here, I've got a bad feeling about this."

"What did they say?" He asks, daring to look back at the silent Impala as a hint of worry colors his tone.

"Nothing," You murmur, attempting a smile, but you can only manage a grimace. "I just... Something's not right here, with them."

"What, you mean they're not human? Do they have something to do with this spirit?"

You shake your head sharply, before pausing to shrug. "No, maybe. I mean, they're human alright, but they aren't normal."

"What the hell do you mean, Y/N?!" He snaps, turning in his seat to glare at you.

"I mean, I think they're like me," Taking a deep breath, you start up the car and peel away from the curb to tear down the empty street, staring at what you could make out of the Impala in the darkness until it shrunk into nothing in the distance. "I think they're hunters."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, what's up?   
> I have a vague idea of where this fic is going, but if anyone has suggestions or ideas, I'm open to them, so feel free to comment!


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